Mama got up hurting quite a bit this morning.  She refused her pain meds until a little earlier this afternoon and now she’s resting in the family room.

She told me before we left the hospital that she just wanted to not think about all of this until we knew what exactly we were dealing with.

We’ve sat and talked about nothing, and everything.  She’s been teaching Emma to crochet.

I phoned the doctor again today.  His phone rings straight to a voice mail message that says the scheduler is away from her desk or on another call, and to leave a detailed message and she’ll call back.

For the second day straight I have left a message.  She hasn’t returned my call.  This time, Mama’s labs are supposed to be back.

I think it’s horrible they make someone wait to find out something so life altering.

Is it bad that I’m angry??  I’m angry at the doctors for not calling soon enough and leaving us all wondering what is really happening.  (The waiting is the worst!)  I’m angry because she didn’t go to see a doctor sooner.

I’m angry about the memories we won’t make now.

I’m angry my mom won’t be able to travel to the places she’s wanted to see.

I’m angry she won’t share Christmases and Thanksgivings, and birthdays…she counts every one so special and rarely misses traveling to see them.

I’m angry that she may not be here to see my babies grown, holding children of their own.

I’m angry that something so horrid is going to render a woman I’ve seen all my life as so strong, helpless.

I’m angry my husband is traveling so much right now, that I feel like I’m standing in the midst of a raging storm alone.

It’s raw, and it’s horrible, but I’m angry the Lord would take my mama from me now.  She’s all I really have of my immediate family.  My grandmother seems to be slowing slipping away. My dad has cared nothing for me my entire life.  He lives and enjoys his life just on the other side of town.

On the other hand, I know she misses my great grandmother so much.  I see her body hurt and broken and her living with so much pain.  I know that I’ll see her again one day, whole and happy.  I’ll just miss her so much now.

I know I’ll have people saying that I shouldn’t feel this way, but in reality, this *is* how I feel.   Right now, I’m not resting at all….I know that is the biggest part of all these thoughts that plague my mind.

I keep thinking tomorrow will be better.  Then again, I realize I’m just at the bottom of this big mountain looking up.

I love my mama.

Feelings aside, the Lord God is sovereign.  The Lord is sovereign.  Before my mom was known at all, *He* knew her.  He already has all of this figured out…all of these things.  None of them really mean anything meaningful because there is something more…something more glorious…something perfect.

No sickness.  No broken bodies.  No loneliness.  No loss.

I hate cancer.

This afternoon, a friend dropped by with a meal.  It’s hard to keep a calm face when I just want to fall apart.  Thank you, Jan, for your meal.  I know, you know this pain.

Tonight, Courtney made pizza and we played games like we have so many times before when she’s stayed for a visit.

She was playing and laughing with us until the pain of laughter kicked in and she decided she might need to lay down.  I don’t think this is at all cancer related, but rather the surgery.

After all we’ve been through this week (really only a few very short days.  Why does it seem like forever now?), it was so good to just laugh for a while.

I’m tired tonight.  Paul is supposed to be home at 11:30 but has to leave at 3.  It’s the first time I’ve seen him since all of this happened.

We’ve also still heard nothing from the doctor.  This means we will have to wait until Monday.  I can’t believe we have to wait until Monday.  That seems like an eternity.

Sent by my sweet friend Betsy:

He Maketh No Mistake

My Father’s way may twist and turn,
My heart may throb and ache,
But in my soul I’m glad I know,
He maketh no mistake.

My cherished plans may go astray,
My hopes may fade away,
But still I’ll trust my Lord to lead
For He doth know the way.

Tho’ night be dark and it may seem
That day will never break;
I’ll pin my faith, my all in Him,
He maketh no mistake.

There’s so much now I cannot see,
My eyesight’s far too dim;
But come what may, I’ll simply trust,
And leave it all to Him.

For by and by the mist will lift
And plain it all He’ll make,
Through all the way, tho’ dark to me,
He made not one mistake.

~ A.M. Overton